Behold, X-Man
by Ogygian Spring
Summary: In which the O5 arrive at the mansion expecting a boarding school, somewhere to be safe and away from the society that's steadily growing to hate mutants. Little do they know, the Professor has something else in mind entirely. Rated T for mild language. I just have a lot of love for the First Class X-Men and hope to do them justice. This is set a little more present than the '60s.
1. A Few Interesting Arrivals (Scott)

Hey guys! So this is my first X-Men story (I absolutely love the X-Men), and I'm excited to see where it goes! My favorite favorite are the original five, so I chose them as my starting point (I love the movie, but these five were the true beginners). I hope you guys love it, if you do, please leave a review, if you don't, please leave a review! I love to hear what you guys have to say, and love to get feedback (good or bad!) about what I did well or what was just a fail. Enjoy! (Or don't)

Disclaimer, these characters do not belong to me, they are Stan's. (Anyone else excited about the Fox Deal?)

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Looking up at the mansion, Scott made two observations. One, it was much bigger than he had imagined, all rough stone and towers and crawling ivy. Two, there were people already waiting for him on the front steps. The first was an older man in a wheelchair. His head was blindingly hairless, but he was dressed in a full suit. Scott's stomach was dense with butterflies- the situation not improved by the cute girl watching him drive in. In the sun, her hair was almost the color of fire.

 _Fire._

Scott shook his head to clear the memory and looked at his future. He glanced at the address in his hand one last time, just a smattering of numbers and words hastily scrawled on a scrap of paper he found on the street.

This was it.

The taxi driver cruised to the front of the long cobblestone driveway, stopping in front of the tall staircase. He shoved the last of his money into the taxi driver's open hand and took the first step.

"Scott, I see you got my gift." The man spoke for the first time, referring to the ruby quartz glasses on his face. A week ago, Scott was blind on the streets, keeping his eyes closed for fear of another incident, somehow, a stranger had pushed the sunglasses into his hand. No explanation, and the man disappeared shortly after. Then the voice. Soft, at first, but grew as if the speaker were standing right next to him, telling him to put the glasses on.

Everything was red now.

And then the voice gave him an address. Scott tried not to think about the fact that the voice seemed to just be in his head.

Fast forward three days and here Scott was, looking up at a bald man and a girl his age and hoping for all the world that this wasn't just another sad orphanage. He didn't think he could stand more orphanage food. They always fed you like it was a prison or something.

"No, Scott, you won't have to worry about prison food here. We have our own cook."

The man answered his unspoken thoughts- and yes, they were thoughts. Scott rethunk the last minute, trying to figure out if he'd said anything out loud.

He hadn't.

"How'd you… I mean, I didn't…" He couldn't seem to finish a sentence. The man laughed.

"I'm Professor Xavier. Welcome to the school."

"I'm Jean." The girl spoke, her voice hiding something. Like she was ready to laugh. Like she knew something he didn't. Like she had secrets. Scott immediately wanted to know.

He knew this was an important moment. Pivotal, even. He could feel it in his gut, as intensely as the butterflies that were taking their time in fluttering away. He should say something smart, something collected. Something to both impress and show off his sharp wit.

"You have a nice house." Dangit.

"Well thank you, Scott. Jean, why don't you show him around? I'll make sure dinner gets underway." There was a faint hum as his wheelchair turned toward the doorway. An almost imperceptible ramp took him over the door frame.

Scott took in the foyer. A grand staircase stood behind a grand piano, an elegant chandelier hovering overhead. It looked old and expensive at the same time. Like the priceless china your great aunt never let you touch. Scott was scared to step off the welcome matt for fear of getting his homeless on everything.

Another boy appeared at the top of the stairs. His light hair was brushed forward on his head so that it ended in a point above his widow's peak. Scott could see his nerves from the ground- the way he tapped his fingers on the railing, the way he was almost bouncing with energy.

"Hey."

"Ah," the Professor started. "This is Robert. I trust you'll acquaint yourselves." He wheeled away, the humming of his chair following him out the door.

Robert slid down the banister with ease, landing on both feet with no problem. He shook Scott's hand, his fingers only slightly warmer than liquid nitrogen. "You can call me Bobby."

"I"m Scott."

"Come on, Scott," Jean said, that same curious smile on her almost-perfect face. In fact, the only flaw he'd noticed was that he hadn't had enough time to look at her yet. He wondered what their mutations would look like. He wondered if they'd ask soon.

"Where ya from, Scotty?" Maybe they'd all talk mutations later. Bobby seemed to know his way around well enough, and began to lead them up the stairs.

"Alaska, actually."

"No kidding?" Bobby looked at him. Scott imagined his eyes to be blue.

"Yeah, my dad was in the Air Force."

No one commented on the use of past tense, which he was grateful for. Bobby just kept talking.

"That's neat-o. I've always wanted to go to Alaska." They came to a long hallway lined with doors.

"What about you guys?" Scott glanced at Jean.

"We're both from in-state," Bobby answered. Jean seemed content to let him do the talking, and he happily obliged. "Well, Jeanie here's from upstate. I'm from Long Island."

Scott didn't fail to notice how he'd called her Jeanie. "Have you guys known each other long?"

"Jean's been here since yesterday, right Jean?"

"Yeah, my parents got the date wrong." She was wearing that I-Know-Something-You-Don't smile. "Bobby just got here a couple hours before you did, Scott."

Scott really liked how she said his name. The 's' sound was short, but the o held her slight New York accent, almost-but-not-quite an 'aw.'

"Yeah, well we can't all be overachievers like you," Bobby said.

Jean gave him a good-natured laugh. "This room is mine." She pushed one of the doors open. It was a nice room, one bed with an attached bathroom.

Bobby stepped right in. "Aw, you get your own bathroom? I don't have my own bathroom."

"Yeah, all you guys share." There was no remorse in her voice.

"You don't sound like you feel too bad about that," Scott teased.

"Wow, Scott," Jean laughed. "You are capable of humor."

"That was uncalled for," Scott complained, but he wasn't really upset. He could get used to these two. They seemed like they'd make good friends- and as for Jean…

Bobby clapped his hands, the sound echoing through the empty hall. "Okay! My room's down that a-way." He winked at Scott as he passed by to lead the way.

Scott resisted the urge to roll his eyes as they followed him. "How many students are coming? It's not just us, is it?" Scott didn't have any details other than the address.

"This is your room, Scott." Jean pointed to a door two down from hers. There was already a nametag on his door.

"Scott Summers, welcome home," Bobby said, and pushed him inside. It was almost identical to Jean's, but the colors seemed darker, and Bobby was right. There was no bathroom. He set his backpack on the bed. All it really had was a change of clothes, a water bottle or two, and- though it was cliché- an old picture of his family.

He followed them from the room. His room.

"Did you guys hear that?" Jean asked.

"Hear what?" Bobby's eyebrows furrowed. Somehow he'd gotten a snack, and he chewed with his mouth open. It was obnoxious. Scott didn't mind.

This time, they all heard the knock on the door. As a group, they ran to the top of the stairs, but the professor was already there, opening the door. A wide figure in a dark hoodie stood beyond, hands in his pockets. He had a duffel slung over his broad shoulders.

"Henry," Jean breathed.

How did she know?

Scott wondered if maybe she had some sort of mutation dealing with premonition, that she could see things about to happen. Like introductions.

"Henry, welcome." The Professor hummed his chair backwards. The new student, Henry, hesitated before stepping in.

"Thank you."

"Come upstairs," Bobby called.

Scott and Jean voiced their agreements.

Henry looked up at them. His jaw was as square as the rest of him. He looked back at the professor.

"Yes Henry, go find your room. I'll call you all down for dinner. And our final student should arrive within the hour." He looked up at the three on the stairs. "I'm glad to see you three are getting along."

Scott watched Henry trudge up the stairs, wondering at the expression on his face. He looked… different than Scott had felt. Scott had been apprehensive, sure, but the plain fear on Henry's face was thinly masked behind his rectangular glasses.

"I'm Scott." He stuck out a hand.

Henry stared at it. Cleared his throat. Glanced at Scott's face.

And shook his hand.

Scott was surprised, to say the least. Henry's hand wrapped all the way around his, as it was just about the size of a baseball glove with blocky fingers and fingernails the size of quarters.

Scott moved on quickly. Hank was just like them, even if his mutation was a little more obvious than theirs were.

"Hey Hank, I'm Bobby." Bobby didn't even blink as he shook Henry's hand, smiling just as he had been the whole afternoon.

"Jean." She was wearing that smile again. "We were just looking around our rooms, if you want to-" She stopped.

"Jean?" Scott asked.

"Warren's here."

"Who-"

There were three sharp raps on the door. When the Professor opened it, there were not one, but three people standing there, all blond, and dressed as if they were going to a fancy dinner at the local country club. That is, except for the one Scott assumed was the student. He was probably Scott's age, but definitely from a different culture than Scott was used to. He was wearing designer brands- pre-ripped jeans, a v-neck t-shirt, and a denim jacket. The professor began talking to his parents.

"Hey guys," he called up to the four.

"Warren, lower your voice," the father scolded.

Warren's jaw twitched. His mom hugged him, but he just stared straight ahead, unmoving. Then he marched up the stairs, dragging his suitcase behind him.

Scott noticed that he didn't seem scared- at all- so much as irritated. He met each of their eyes in turn as he came toward them, but he stopped when they landed on Jean. An awkward pause followed as he looked at her. Scott severely hoped he wasn't that obvious.

"I'm Warren." He put a hand out.

"Scott," he interrupted, intercepting the handshake before he could kiss her hand or something. "Good to have you here."

"Good to be here," Warren sighed. He immediately relaxed. Scott literally saw the tension melt from his shoulders. He didn't know if it was the handshake, the welcome, or maybe just being away from his parents.

"This is Jean, and this is Henry, and here's Bobby. We all just kinda got here, too."

Warren nodded, and shook each of their hands in turn, Henry's last. He stopped, and Scott was worried he'd say something mean about the other boy's mutation, but it was so much better. His face broke into a huge smile.

"Henry, your room is here," Jean said kindly. It was the one across from Scott's. Bobby grabbed Henry's duffel for him, putting it on his bed. "Wow, I like this one."

Henry's room wasn't much different, but there was a door open at the back that led to a library. Scott wondered if the professor had planned that, if he knew Henry liked libraries.

Warren left his suitcase at the door. "You guys. We…" his voice almost, almost broke. "We don't have to hide here." Forgetting about his suitcase, he ripped his jacket off. Scott put a hand on his glasses, just in case anything… weird… happened.

Warren pulled his shirt off, revealing two nylon straps across his chest. He undid two buckles on the front and the whole thing fell away- and wings unfurled. He spun proudly, showing them off- and they were impressive. If they weren't in the hallway, and he could stretch them out all the way, the wingspan would probably be more than twelve feet. How long had they been in those straps?

Scott's jaw dropped. Henry and Jean smiled.

"Woah, man. You can fly with these?" Bobby unashamedly reached out to touch the wings.

Warren looked down. "Well, that's the thing. I've only actually tried once." He looked up at Jean through long lashes. Scott was having trouble liking this one.

"Well, come on," Jean encouraged, grabbing Warren's hand (this was not lost on Scott). "Let's go see."

They took off down the hall, running toward the big window at the end. Scott ran with them, everyone caught up in the excitement. Surely he'd get used to Warren- it wasn't as if he had dibs on Jean or anything. She could choose for herself. Though Scott had seen her first.

She pushed the window open. The backyard was incredible- a huge pool, basketball court, acres upon acres of land. They were probably two or three stories in the air, but Warren fearlessly sat on the windowsill. That is, until he looked down.

"Actually I'm not too sure about this. Maybe we should wait or something. I mean-"

Bobby caught Scott's eyes and winked, nodding toward Warren's bare back. They moved as one, each putting a hand on his shoulder to shove him out the window. He was much lighter than they'd planned for.

They laughed, Jean shrieked, even Henry chuckled a little, warming up to them.

Warren yelled the whole way down, right into the rose bushes. They stopped laughing.

"You alright?" Bobby called, leaning forward. Now that Scott noticed, all four of them were crowded around, leaning out the window together. He and Jean were in very close proximity.

"He's okay," Jean muttered. Scott almost asked how she knew, but Warren rolled out of the bush, groaning.

"Anything broken?" Scott asked.

Warren just gave them a thumbs-up. Scott wasn't sure if the thumbs-up meant yes, he had broken something, or yes, he was okay. They all cheered anyway.

The winged man stretched, then bent his legs, shifting his weight between his feet like a golfer. He jumped and flapped his wings.

"COME ON, WARREN!" Bobby yelled at the top of his lungs.

"You can do it!" Jean shrieked with happiness.

Henry clapped, Scott cheered.

Warren fell twice, but on the third try, rose to their height, laughing like a maniac. "Holy crap. Holy crap. Holy CRAP-" He started to fall, but caught himself at the last minute. Somehow, his instincts kicked in, and he was soaring above the mansion in seconds. They watched him for a few minutes, all of them celebrating his new discovery.

"Heads up!"

Scott and the rest backed away from the window, Scott and Jean on one side, Bobby and Henry on the other.

Warren didn't make it through, but his arms did. The rest of him hit the bottom of the window.

Scott and Henry grabbed his hands to pull him through. They were all smiling and cheering and laughing- even Warren, who was bleeding from scratches all over his torso.

"Way to go, Ace. Knew you could do it," complimented Bobby, who clapped Warren on the shoulder.

"Yeah, yeah, I know you pushed me out the window. And I will be getting revenge."

"Hey, you got in the air eventually."

"You can't blame him," Henry joined. His canines were sharp behind his smile. "He was just trying to help."

Scott stayed to the side, watching it all unfold. There was no reason for Warren to seek revenge on him too, especially when he could just watch it happen to the others.

"Hey, don't defend him. I'll come for you, too." Warren's wings fluttered

Henry held his hands up in an it-wasn't-me gesture.

"And I know you helped." Warren pointed at Scott. "So I'm coming for all of you."

Jean laughed. "Okay, be reasonable. I'm an innocent bystander."

Warren leaned toward her, much too close for Scott's taste. "I guess you'll just have to be my partner in crime, then."

She laughed, but stepped away. "Come on, let's show the new guy his room." She gave meaningful looks to Bobby and Scott. The group walked down the hall together, some of the guys shoving each other (mostly Bobby and Warren). Scott closed the door to his room as they passed by- no need for the others to see how little he actually had to bring with him.

Warren's room was right between Jean and Scott, across from Bobby's.

Great. Just Scott's luck that Mr. Perfect would have the room next to Jean. Scott didn't know why he was getting so unreasonably jealous- it's not as if they weren't living in the same hallway.

"Hey Ace, put a shirt on, will ya?" Bobby asked. "You're making the rest of us feel bad about ourselves."

Warren smirked. "I may just have to leave it off, then." But he opened a duffel and grabbed a new v-neck.

"Warren, if you don't mind my asking, how long have you had your wings?" Henry stepped forward for a closer look.

The winged man pulled a switchblade from his pocket, flicking it open. "I was thirteen, maybe?" He shrugged. "They started out small, but grew pretty fast. It's been about three or four years, I guess."

"Fascinating. And you haven't used them to fly before?" Henry pulled a small notepad from a pocket and began scribbling something down.

Warren started cutting wide slits in the back of the new shirt. "Just once. My… my parents, don't really like our kind." He said it with a sneer, and I imagined he was quoting his father. "Well, ol' Pop especially. I was told never to call attention to myself. Luckily I've been in boarding school for the last few years. I gave up my car to come here." He ripped the shirt, but it didn't seem to bother him much. "I mean, who needs a car though?" He flapped his wings, smile back on.

"Man, that sucks," Scott added. And he meant it. Even though he'd had to grow up without his parents, he couldn't imagine being loathed by his father.

Warren nodded. "Could be worse. So what about you guys?"

No one wanted to speak first. Luckily (or unluckily, as Scott saw it as a chance to learn more about the other mutants) for the preservation of un-awkward silence, they were interrupted.

Scott's voice was back. Judging by the way the others all stopped and looked around, they could hear it too, but hadn't heard it before. Except Jean. She kept a neutral expression, not giving anything away.

 _If you would all be so kind as to come downstairs, dinner is ready._

Bobby put it together first, which surprised Scott. Henry had seemed like the smart one. "Is that… the professor?"

"Yeah," Jean responded. "Time for dinner."

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End of chapter 1! I hope it was worthwhile, please review! I love everything you guys have to say, tell me what I'm doing wrong.

Side note, Warren is definitely one of my favorite X-Men. Who's yours?


	2. Understanding Purpose (Jean)

Hey guys! Thank you thank you thank you for reading! I love you and I love the X-Men, which is why I'm writing. I love when you review and tell me what you think is good, what you think is bad, who you like, who you hate. I know this chapter is way shorter, but I kinda thrive on short chapters. I'm really just writing this for fun between school stuff, so read for fun! Enjoy! :)

Disclaimer: They don't belong to me, because if they did, they wouldn't be as great!

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To my reviewers:

Nienna Rose- thank you for the critique! I'll keep that stuff in mind!

Azremi16- I'm so glad you like it! It means a lot to hear that, and I love the O5 too. Favs. I wish they'd made a movie just about them.

dead-raccoons- I'm so so happy you think they're cute. I mean, I think they're cute, but I'm biased. And I checked out your fic, well done! I sure hope to see Warren soon!

Scarlett. - Thank you! Everything you said is so encouraging to hear, I appreciate it so much. I'll have to go back and check out those grammatical errors when I get the time... sometimes I struggle to put a sentence together just right.

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Whisperings.

She could hear everything everyone was thinking, at every moment of every day. She already knew more about each of the guys than any of them knew about each other. Henry would warm up to them with time, and would maybe become the most talkative of them all, aside from Bobby perhaps. Scott spent a lot of time thinking about fire, and how her hair was the closest thing he'd seen to color since putting on those glasses. Warren tried to put on a brave face around them, but he'd really only flown twice before, ever, and neither time had turned out well. Bobby lost a bet two years ago and had to dye his hair pink as a result, and he actually liked it… sorta.

There was almost no point in actually talking to them, and Jean hated that about herself.

Jean thought the table was too long. There were only six of them, and they took up a fraction of the available space. Despite Scott's valiant attempts to sit next to her during dinner, he'd stopped to pull her chair out for her, and Warren had swiped the seat. Scott settled to sit across from her, both of them next to the professor, who sat at the head of the table. Jean loved the professor already. He was a telepath- just like she was. He'd been in contact with her for a few days before visiting her parents at her house to inform them about the school. They weren't like Warren's parents. They'd wanted the best for her, and the best for her was putting her with the professor. He would teach her to control her telepathy, so she wouldn't have to hear everyone's random thoughts.

 _I wonder if the dog likes cauliflower. Wait, there's a dog here, right? If there isn't a dog here, what am I doing here? Maybe I'll adopt one for the Prof. I really hate cauliflower. It's like moldy broccoli._

Bobby was currently staring at his plate, seemingly concentrated on something important. Jean held back a snicker, covering her mouth with a hand. If only everyone else knew how funny Bobby really was…

 _What does it mean when she smiles like that?_

Scott was looking at her through those ruby red glasses. When he noticed that she caught him, he was suddenly very invested in his food.

Jean liked all of the guys. Of course, being able to hear what they were thinking all the time was… interesting. She knew Scott and Warren were both interested in her, which was amusing. She liked both of them, though they were both a little obvious about it, not to mention they'd only met a few hours before. Bobby and Henry were a little different. Bobby was younger than the rest, a little broken, but still amazed by everything around him. Jean loved that about him- she could see how he saw everything, and it made her more optimistic. Henry was curious. About everything. About their mutations and their purpose and all of the genes that made up each of them. Jean knew that Xavier had promised a full-size science lab to Henry when he got here, and secretly, Jean was looking forward to using it as well.

"I trust you're getting settled in," Professor Xavier said. He didn't have any food in front of him, electing instead to use this time to ask them questions and inform them about the school.

"Yessir, Prof. Everything's great," Bobby affirmed. Jean knew he came really close to asking if there was a pet in the mansion.

"Yes, the accommodations are quite suitable," Henry agreed. She sensed his amazement at the sheer size of their boarding school.

"Everything's beautiful," Warren added. Jean could feel his eyes on her. She could also feel Scott trying not to roll his eyes behind those glasses.

"Thank you, and you can thank Ms. Lafitte for dinner," the Professor said. She'll be doing the cooking and housekeeping during the school year. I recommend that you take tonight to get settled in, and get to bed earlier than you want to." He raised an eyebrow. "Class starts at seven tomorrow."

No one said anything, but Jean heard a collective groan from the four boys at the table. She didn't mind waking up early. It was worth it to be here. Jean wished her parents would grow to love mutants as much as she already did- they were misinformed about the dangers of mutantkind. Jean certainly wasn't dangerous.

"What are we going to be studying here, Professor?" Henry asked. Jean could tell he could barely refrain from raising his hand before the question.

"Well, I'm hoping to look into some mutant history, and with your help, discuss some of the reasons our current society doesn't accept mutants for what they are. With any luck, we might be able to change their minds." His face remained open, but Jean heard something whispering at her from behind a wall he'd put up. Something important.

She didn't think long before asking. "Why else are we here? There's something else."

Xavier looked at her. She couldn't sense any evil intent… nothing that meant he wanted to harm them. But that didn't mean harm couldn't come to them.

His gaze shifted to the rest of the table. "I'll show you to the rest of the mansion."

He hummed his chair away from the table. The rest of them stood awkwardly, shooting wary glances at each other. Something was amiss.

The Professor explained as he went. "An old colleague of mine has been gathering a team of mutants of his own. Unfortunately, all he wants is revenge. Revenge on the humans, revenge on myself, unfortunately. And he wishes for mutantkind to rule over the rest of the world as the dominant species." He led them down a corridor that looked more futuristic than the rest of the building, all metals and strong, new materials that probably had names starting with poly.

He stopped when they reached a large set of double doors. "This is the Danger Room, where you will be training to fight using your mutant powers for good- and to save mutant and humankind alike."

Fight? But Jean certainly wasn't dangerous.

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Thank you for reading! PLEASE review, they make my day every time. :) Love you guys!

And again, I'm so so sorry it's that short... sometimes it's easier to read a short chapter though.


	3. A Night to Remember (Bobby)

A block of ice settled in Bobby's stomach. It would've just been a metaphor, but he really couldn't be sure if it was a literal block of ice or not. Could he turn his internal organs into ice? Note to self: experiment later.

The ice had been there since the professor mentioned the other team of mutants. _Bad guys._ Just like cowboys and indians. Except there were two teams of indians, and all three sides were fighting.

Bobby _really_ didn't want to go to sleep. They'd gotten almost an overload of information tonight, just enough to buzz Bobby up and dissuade him from his comfy-looking bed. He couldn't imagine the others felt any different- they were gonna be superheroes. _Superheroes._ Bobby was literally living out the dream of any given seven-year-old. And as someone with the heart of a seven-year-old, he was literally living out his dream.

The team was great, too. He already loved Scott and Jean and Warren and Hank. Somehow, though they'd only known each other for a few hours, Scott and Warren had already managed to brew some sort of rivalry over Jean. Bobby was on team Scott… but Warren didn't seem like a bad dude either.

Maybe Jean had a younger sister or something… Bobby vaguely wished he was just a little older so maybe he would have a chance with her. He knew she'd be great, on the team and as a friend. But Scott… he would be the leader.

And that's what had Bobby tip-toeing across the hall at quarter to midnight, knocking on Scott's door.

The taller boy answered immediately. Bobby didn't fail to notice the hand he had on his glasses, and wondered yet again what would happen if he took the shades off. He obviously wore them for a reason, since they'd been inside for hours now without the glasses taking the glasses off once. And their weird red color… Scott was a mystery waiting to be revealed. Maybe he was just trying to be cool.

"Hey, Bobby, what's up?"

"Let's be honest, Scotty. No one's asleep right now. Let's grab Jean and explore a little."

Scott leaned against the doorframe. "I don't know, Bobby. The Professor said we have an early morning."

Bobby sighed.

"But… he didn't tell us we _had_ to go to sleep." Scott eased the door closed behind him and walked the two doors to Jean's room.

Bobby grinned, pumping a fist in victory. His work here was done.

Jean answered the door just as quickly as Scott had, obviously awake beforehand. "Scott? Is something wrong?"

She asked that, but Bobby noticed that she didn't look very worried.

"Nah," Scotty replied, running a hand through his already messy hair. "Bobby just figured we could explore a little."

"I hear there's a pool out back," Bobby confirmed.

"What about the others?"

Scott knocked lightly on Henry's door. He took a moment longer to answer, but came to the door nonetheless. He looked over the three teens with an evaluating eye.

"Hello, may I ask what we're doing?"

That was it. There was no pre-emptive question about why they were awake, just an assumption that they were all going to do something and it would be awesome. Bobby liked that.

"We're gonna explore. Bobby says there's a pool," Jean filled him in.

The door across the hall opened, and a shirtless Warren stepped out. "I'm just gonna hope that I was gonna be invited to this party, and if I wasn't, I don't wanna know." He pulled a shirt on, pushing his wings through the holes in the back.

Scott led them downstairs, to the big double doors in the back (Bobby was beginning to wonder if all the doors in the mansion were just freakishly huge) that let out onto the grounds. Well, onto a huge concrete patio (complete with inground swimming pool), and then the grounds. Bobby doubted he could see the end of the property.

Of course, Bobby was mostly just interested in the pool. Summer wasn't traditionally his favorite season, but he could appreciate a good pool party. And he didn't get cold anymore, so he didn't have to worry about it being too chilly to swim.

Granted, he hadn't been planning on swimming in that very moment, but Warren had other ideas. Bobby was knocked off his feet from behind and dropped into the middle of the pool as the winged man went swooping overhead, cackling gleefully.

Bobby came up gasping for air, but followed his instincts. He threw a hand into the air, creating as big a wave as he could, and his mutation took care of the rest. The block of ice in Bobby's gut expanded, the comforting cold taking over his limbs and torso. He sent that feeling out towards his fingertips, and then further, channeling everything he had towards the wave. Towards Warren.

A twenty foot tall ice sculpture arced into the air above the pool. Some had latched onto Warren's wingtips when he'd chosen to dive toward the pool, and now he was forced to land. He frantically swiped at his feathers.

Bobby stared up at what he'd done with shock. He'd never, _never_ done anything like that. Every once in a while he'd cooled a drink down, or done some impromptu ice skating for fun. Nothing like this.

When he realized that the other three standing to the side were cheering him on and laughing, he started to laugh, too. He waded to the side of the pool and Henry offered him a huge hand. He pulled Bobby out with no difficulty. "Thanks, Hank." He didn't admit that Hank almost pulled his arm out of it's socket. He rubbed his sore shoulder.

"Wow," Jean complimented.

Scott patted him on the back.

"Oh, shut up," Bobby reprimanded Warren, who was trying not to smile.

"I didn't say anything," he said innocently.

"You're upset cause I'm cooler than you."

"Was… was that supposed to be a pun?"

Bobby nudged Scott. "Your turn."

"I dunno Bobby, mine isn't exactly an indoors-friendly power."

"Well, Scotty, we're outside. Have at it."

"I don't know-"

"I'm sure it'll be fine."

"Don't wimp out on us."

"You got it."

Scott caved at the encouragement and took a deep breath. Bobby took two dramatic steps backwards, which made Jean laugh.

The older boy faced Bobby's now-melting ice sculpture and put a hand on his glasses. Then he ripped them off, like a bandaid, and Bobby remembers thinking two things.

" _Wow. That's red."_


	4. A Night to Remember Pt 2 (Hank)

Spots danced in Henry's eyes. He couldn't forget the image of the blast of pure force that had escaped Scott's eyes- it was engraved on the back of his eyelids. It had obliterated the abstract ice that Bobby had created only moments before (which was equally impressive, if not as loud), and even gone past that, cratering a section of the beautifully landscaped grounds beyond.

No one spoke for a moment. Then Warren piped up.

"Damn."

Everyone was quiet for a second more.

Then Bobby laughed. "I'm sorry. That was awesome. Do you even _know_ how awesome that was? Because let me tell you, it was awesome. Hank. Did you see how awesome that was?"

"I saw, Bobby. It was pretty awesome."

"Jean, did you-"

"We all saw it, Bobby." She was laughing.

"Just making sure."

This group was growing on Henry very quickly. He was especially fond of Bobby's energy and Jean's kind aura. To be completely honest, he was fascinated by the X-Gene. In fact, the prime reason he was here was to be in proximity with more mutants, to study the full effect that their powers had on everyday life. And because… it was hard to fit in anymore. Once his mutation developed, he'd become great at sports, and he was already at the top of his class academically, so theoretically, he should've been liked by everyone, right? Wrong. They resented him once they new about the mutation, and it never got better. At least here, he would be among his own _and_ get to study the evolution of humankind.

Surely it wouldn't inhibit his studies to make some better friends here too… right?

"Yeah, well. I can't actually control it." Scott touched the glasses, as if making sure they were still there.

Henry pulled the small notepad from his pocket and jotted down a few words. He would have to speak with them all individually- there was so much to ask. Though science was working on it, there was still much to discover about the rise of mutantkind.

"Hey, that's why we're here. We're all figuring it out." Jean put a hand on Scott's shoulder, but looked at Henry.

"Yeah, man. No shame." Warren patted him on the back.

Scott nodded. Henry sensed something else, though. Some other, deeper worry.

"You have nothing to fear," Henry added. "This school is safe- and I doubt you could hurt any of us. Mutants are highly resilient."

"Thanks, Henry." There was a short pause. Bobby, as usual, put a stop to that.

"You next, Jeanie." He pointed at the redhead. "You ain't getting off easy."

"Okay… but I'm not very good at it yet." She glanced around at them, and then closed her eyes.

No one asked what 'it' was, but perhaps no one was brave enough to. Bobby shot a nervous glance at Henry, who just furrowed his brow.

Jean opened her eyes and stared straight ahead, at Bobby, who happened to be closest to the pool..

And then he fell in. Again. Except this time, it wasn't exactly falling so much as he was pushed, or so it appeared. Henry couldn't make sense of it for a second it wouldn't have surprised him if Bobby had simply tripped, but it truly appeared as though he was… pushed.

They all looked at Jean. She smirked.

Warren began applauding. Scott laughed. Henry laughed, too, but extended his hand yet again to pull the young man out of the water. Before he could reach him, however, Bobby was wrenched from the pool by the same unseen force.

"Woah woah woah-" a soaking Bobby hovered upside down over the water. "Please be careful-"

Henry looked at Jean- she wore a face of intense concentration, squinting at Bobby with both arms in front of her. She seemed steady, but then Henry noticed her hands tremble almost imperceptibly- followed immediately by a huge splash.

"A telekinetic!" Henry exclaimed. "Brilliant, Jean. Brilliant."

"I'm not very good yet." She looked down, but blushed at the compliment.

"Not very good yet…?" Scott scoffed.

"Yeah Jean, that was awesome!" Warren patted her on the back.

"Uh-huh. Awesome." Bobby rolled his eyes as he pulled himself out of the pool, but it was easy to see he was trying to hide a smile. "You're the eighth wonder of the world. The gods will bow and the peasants will worship the ground you walk on."

"Oh, calm down, Bobby. You were the only one who already fell in." She was beaming, still proud of herself.

"Fell?!" He pointed at Warren.

"Eh, we all saw you trip, Bobby. Don't try and push this off on everyone else." Scott grinned.

"Don't be embarrassed, we're all clumsy sometimes," Jean added.

"I'm taking names."

"Is someone grumpy?" Warren asked, smirking. He nudged Bobby in the back with a wing, probably a little harder than was necessary.

Bobby swatted him away, but Henry could see the smile on his face as he reached down and dug his hands into a pile of snow that hadn't been there the moment before.

Everyone but Henry received a snowball to the face- Jean almost dodged hers, as it hit her in the shoulder, but Scott and Warren almost simultaneously wiped sludge from their eyes.

"Hank is my only friend now." Bobby placed a hand on Henry's shoulder. That was another positive thing about Bobby- Henry liked how he called him 'Hank.' It was casual. Not many people had been that familiar with him before. In fact, no one had been that casual with him before. "We're going to be spending all of our time having more fun than you. And no, I am not grumpy." He glared at Warren.

"Liar," Jean whispered. Hank thought he might be the only one who heard that. Then he started thinking- maybe her powers weren't confined to pushing annoying boys into pools. Telepathy would explain her inexplicable ability to guess coming events, or the way she always looked like she knew something the rest of them didn't.

Or she was just joking.

"Hank?" Scott asked.

His head snapped up, realizing they'd asked him a question. They were all looking at him.

"Hmm? Sorry. I became distracted." His fingers unconsciously twitched towards his pocket- he desperately wanted to write down his theory, as he wasn't quite ready to share it out loud yet. If he was right, it wasn't his secret to tell.

"It's your turn," Warren announced. He leaned closer to Henry, hiding his mouth with a hand. "Twenty bucks if you push Bobby in the pool again."

"I heard that," Bobby growled.

"Fifty bucks," Warren insisted.

Henry couldn't hold back a chuckle. "Aside from having the physical proportions of a small refrigerator, I'm afraid I'm not good for much."

"Oh, don't sell yourself short, Hank." Jean smiled warmly at him. "There's more to it, right?"

Henry met her eyes. This confirmed his suspicions: he knew she could read minds. She knew he knew. And then, she spoke.

 _Don't tell them yet._

She hadn't opened her mouth, but he heard the words clear as day.

 _I won't._

Her smile grew.

The exchange lasted less than two seconds, but it was enough time for the silence to become uncomfortable for the others. Hank fought to rectify this immediately.

"Er.. well, yes." Henry tapped his fingers on his leg. "My IQ is unnecessarily advanced and to compare my agility to that of an ape would not be incorrect." He gave them a sheepish smile. "And on top of that, my feet don't… look unlike… that is, to say..." Henry became very aware of the fact that the other four students were barefoot.

"Spit it out," Warren insisted. "We can take it."

"They're similar to a second pair of hands," Henry finished, searching the expressions of the four. He usually avoided telling people that at all costs- it just made them more antagonistic. But if any group was going to accept him, it would be this one.

Bobby didn't miss a beat. "You can't say something like that and keep wearing your shoes."

Scott jerked his chin up, grinning but not looking particularly surprised. "He's right."

Henry was, in fact, wearing slippers, which he promptly slid from his feet.

"So, like… you can climb really well?" Bobby asked, shamelessly.

"Um.. yeah, I'm pretty good at-" he froze.

They all saw the light flick on at the same time. It was one of the first floor rooms, ivory curtains framing the yellow-orange glow.

Most likely the professor.

"We can't go in this door, it goes straight to the hallway. He'll definitely see us sneaking in." Scott eyed the backdoor thoughtfully, and Henry watched as his gaze drifted up, up… to the second story window. The one Warren had fallen out of just earlier that night.

Bobby clapped Scott on the shoulder. "Good thinking, Summers."

Henry sure was glad he could climb.


	5. Night Owl (Warren)

Hey guys! So I've been in a writing slump for a super duper long time, and so this story is taking me forever. BUT I've really really _really_ enjoyed writing so far and I'm definitely going to keep going... luckily I have DecemberRome to look out for me! Seriously, this chapter might not have happened without her. She really threw me a line on this one.

On another note, I love hearing your guys' thoughts! Thank you so much for the reviews (especially to you, dead-raccoons and Arkham House). The reason I started writing here was to get notes on how to improve, whether that be stylistically or whatever I don't really care. I just really strive to be better and you guys are my ticket to that. Also I love the X-Men, so there's that. Right, so sorry I've taken a long time between chapters, and so sorry that my 'hey guys' was a little short and abrupt on the last one (I wrote it right before I fell asleep cause I realized I forgot to when I published... whoops). Anyway, I really love you guys and really love the X-Men and I just hope you guys enjoy this like I do!

The X-Men don't belong to me :)

Probably a good thing, to be honest.

* * *

Warren couldn't sleep. Once inside, the group had wanted to keep talking, but then Hank had pointed out that the Professor probably knew they were awake already and would definitely know if they stayed up even longer. So in the end, they went to their respective rooms after hushed goodnights, deciding to try and get a few hours of sleep before their first class.

All the tossing and turning in the world couldn't make Warren comfortable, though. Different words kept surfacing in his mind, things like _mutant,_ and _fight_ , and _telekinetic._ And _Jean Grey._ But the thoughts kept circling back to the training room, and the prof's supposedly evil colleague. Warren didn't come here to fight other mutants, but that wouldn't deter him from living here, either. He wasn't going back to his parents' estate- ever. Well, maybe for Christmas.

And he'd stay whether he belonged here or not. Warren, for all of his shenanigans at the poolside, wasn't ready to make new friends. The entire night had felt fake, in some ways- his smile, his enthusiasm. His instincts had been screaming at him to shut down and lock the others out- the exact reason he'd shared with them about his family in the beginning. He was fighting instinct itself, and right now he wasn't sure which side was winning.

Not that he didn't want new friends, just that every friend he'd had in the past had mostly hung out with him for his family's money. He'd been used, tossed aside, time and time again, and he wasn't ready for… any of that, again. Ever.

So he would keep them at a distance for as long as he had to. He was here to get away from his dad, not to join some super-duper boy scouts club. He would fake a smile every day if he had to- if that meant he didn't have to endure looking into his own father's eyes every day and see nothing but loathing.

And that Jean Grey girl sure was easy on the eyes. Which definitely didn't hurt the case to stay. Not to mention every time he looked at her he could feel Scott bristle. Which was amusing, but also frustrating in some ways. Why should Scott be the one to get the girl? Because he saw her first? Please.

He rolled out of bed and stretched his wings out. That was something he could get used to- they were already starting to feel less achy than they usually did after a day of being in the harness. He hated that thing.

The door to his room didn't creak at all, unlike the one to his room back at his parents' place. His room here was perfect, though- the back wall was just a giant window, and the whole top half of it could open straight up. In fact, the only downside to his room that there was no XBox. He could fix that, though. His parents hadn't cut him off or anything. He had money. Or, more accurately, he had _money._ As in lots of it. He'd never had to worry about where his finances would come from, and he probably never would. It was nice- comforting to know that there was at least one aspect of his life that his parents would take care of. His mom didn't particularly like mutants, but certainly didn't blame Warren for being one.

His dad though… he'd always seemed to care more about his work and money than he'd ever cared about Warren, and it only got worse when the wings sprouted.

Like when Warren crashed his Aston Martin (a gift for his fifteenth birthday, even though he'd only had his permit) and his dad seemed more angry about the totalled car (even though he could totally buy another one) than worried about Warren's broken arm.

Like when he was at a party and one guy snuck in some drugs (which Warren absolutely did not take part in, though he may have considered it), and when the police took them all in to the station his dad had the cops keep him there overnight.

Warren shook his head to clear the memories, blond hair obstructing his vision. His dad had always wanted him to get a haircut.

His feet were almost silent on the hardwood floor as he made his way down to the kitchen. Surely a cup of coffee, a snack, or even just a walk around the house would relax him enough so that he could sleep.

Warren found the kitchen without difficulty and began brewing coffee in the pot already on the stove. He watched the amber drink turn black as it dripped into the steadily growing puddle in the bottom of the clear pot, vaguely wondering if anyone would notice if he simply took the pot to his room. Probably not. His parents never did. Though his parents didn't notice much that he did, unless they thought it was wrong.

He lifted the full kettle from its rest and began to pour it into a tall mug he found in a cabinet.

He startled at the sound of footsteps coming, turning as his arm jerked involuntarily and spilled hot coffee on his bare feet.

"Did I scare you?" Henry asked, stepping around the corner.

"No," answered Warren from his position on the floor. He was toweling his feet off with the hem of his tank top, the coffee leaving angry red blotches where it had splashed.

"Are you alright?" Henry's eyebrows drew together, reminding Warren of his mother.

"I'm fine." Warren scowled, standing. He certainly wasn't going to tell him that feathers weren't meant to bend against the floor like they just had, and now they were a little sore. He hadn't gotten up with the intention of finding company, and nothing had changed with the other boy's arrival. He just wanted to drink his coffee and try to get some sleep.

Henry crossed the large kitchen to get a water bottle from the fridge. "So what are you doing up so late? Er… early," he corrected himself with a nervous glance at his watch.

"What are _you_ doing up?" Warren asked back, unconcerned. He knew he was being difficult, but difficult might be just the thing that would get Henry to leave him alone. He wasn't in the right frame of mind for fake smiles and there probably wasn't much that could change that.

Henry just continued talking with no regard for Warren's bad mood. "I heard someone get up and thought I'd investigate." He took a swig from the water bottle, pressing on when Warren didn't bother to talk. "You _are_ okay, right?"

The winged man finished pouring his coffee before answering. "Yeah, I'm good. Couldn't sleep." He would've been happy to leave now, except that black coffee sucked. He always drank his coffee with a little bit of milk, even if that meant he had to endure Henry's attempted conversation for another minute.

Henry sidestepped as Warren headed for the fridge.

The older boy cleared his throat. "I don't mean to pry, but the obvious evidence here would suggest to me that you don't seem very 'good.'" He used air quotes around Warren's words, though the blond boy probably hadn't seen them.

Warren paused in his rummaging for a milk carton. Then kept digging, trying to formulate his next words carefully. "Hank, I am the poster boy for 'good.' Look at me, I'm in perfect health." He raised his coffee cup demonstratively without making eye contact once. Where was that milk…?

Henry leaned back against the counter, hesitating contemplatively before speaking again. "I know we only met today, but you seem a little bit perturbed. Perhaps you'd like to talk about something? I can't speak for the others, but I'm sure they'd be as concerned as I am when it comes to your wellbeing, and I, for one, am always willing to listen-"

Warren slammed the fridge door. "What's a guy gotta do to get some damned milk around here?!"

Henry only blinked at the sudden raise in volume.

"Listen, I wish I could say I appreciate the sentiment, but I can't. All I want is to drink my coffee and get some sleep, and I honestly couldn't care less about the 'wellbeing' of anyone here. Myself included. So when I say-"

They were interrupted when someone ran into the half-closed kitchen door. Henry's bewildered expression was made even more amusing, in Warren's opinion, by the fact that he reached up to push his glasses further onto the bridge of his nose, as if it would solidify what he was seeing.

Bobby stumbled into the kitchen, steadying himself on the doorframe. He was also wearing nothing but a pair of boxers decorated with snow cones. His eyes were half lidded and he ambled somewhat purposefully and aimlessly at the same time.

"Sleepwalking," Henry explained.

Warren found himself smiling- real smiling. He then tried to reach a hand out to shake Bobby's shoulder, but Henry quickly caught his wrist.

"Wait. You aren't supposed to wake them."

Warren let him pass, and they just watched, sufficiently entertained, as he opened the same fridge door Warren had slammed moments before. He mumbled something about Coke, but when he turned around he was holding only a single stalk of celery. He then leaned close to Henry, wavering as though he would topple over at any moment. He motioned the older boy to lean closer.

Henry leaned in, maintaining eye contact with Warren as his eyes danced with barely restrained laughter. Warren bit his first knuckle to keep from laughing out loud.

Bobby put a hand on Hank's shoulder and looked him dead in the eyes, a more serious expression on his face than Warren had seen him wear before.

"Don't burn them."

Then, he nodded at Hank, raised his celery stalk to Warren, and walked out the door and back upstairs.

"I'm never letting this go. He will literally never live this down." Warren shook his head, previous argument forgotten. He couldn't even remember why he had been so angry in the first place.

"I worry about him," Hank said. "Ah, here's your milk." He reached into the door shelves of the still-open fridge and handed the half-gallon to Warren.

Warren only laughed. "I'm going back to bed."

The two travelled upstairs together, spirits having been greatly lifted in both of them.

"Goodnight," Hank offered. He hadn't seemed to want to press anything else tonight, and Warren was grateful. Whether it had been his sorta-angry outburst or Bobby's timely interruption, he wasn't sure, but it was a welcome change in thoughts.

"Night Hank." Warren reached for his doorknob as the other door closed behind him. Paused. "Hey, Hank?"

The older boy's door creaked back open. "Hm?"

"Thanks for trying." He tried to meet Hank's gaze, but couldn't seem to lift his eyes from the floor between them.

It wasn't a big step, but it was a step nonetheless, and a big one for Warren.

Hank nodded his acceptance and disappeared into his room.

Warren took a long swig of his lukewarm coffee. It wasn't great, but it definitely could've been worse.

He'd just begun to twist his doorknob when he heard it.

Someone was whispering. He couldn't make out the words- they were too quiet and too muddled. Warren spun in a circle, looking first at Hank's door, but it was still closed. So was everyone else's. He shook his head, trying to clear it, but the voices didn't stop. And they were getting louder.

"Hello?" He asked the empty hall. There was no response, but the whispering got significantly louder. He could pick out individual words now, like mutant, freak, and even his name, a couple times. "This is fine," he muttered. There was surely a reasonable explanation for the whole situation- maybe a couple of the others were talking in one of their rooms, or maybe someone left a TV on somewhere in the house. It was a big house, after all.

Opening his door, he slipped into his room and locked himself in. Rather than getting quieter, or muffled through the door, the voices only got louder… which meant they were in the room with him. He spun around again, but couldn't see anything in the pitch black. He flipped the light on, but to no avail- he was still the only one in the room. He almost dropped his coffee as he set it on the side table- his hands were shaking. He threw open his closet doors, checked under the bed- he even risked a glance out his window into the dark.

But he was alone- absolutely and utterly alone, aside from his thoughts and the swelling wave of voices that grew ever louder. He clamped his hands down over his ears, digging his fingers into his scalp, but there was still no change.

The voices were in his head.

The realization dazed him as he backed against his door, tears pin pricking at the corners of his eyes. "Warren, you baby, you aren't supposed to cry," he muttered. It didn't help. "I'm not scared."

The voices were growing more discernible, becoming women, and men, and even children.

Mutants don't belong here. They aren't natural.

Go home, freak!

He flinched as spit landed at his feet.

Warren, your father is right. Go upstairs.

Warren sank to the floor, his wings bending against the carpet, bewildered and living out his worst memories regarding his mutation. He saw his wings sprout all over again, he heard his mom crying that night, heard her hurtful words, he saw his dad's hands giving him a harness for the first time…

There was an abrupt scream- distinctly female, obviously distressed. The voices stopped.

Warren was left to his thoughts.

* * *

Hey, thank you guys if you've made it this far. Also, has anyone read the All-New X-Men series they put out? It's pretty much all about the O5, except with some time travel and space stuff. Curious about your opinions!

Please review, I love to hear from you guys! And I definitely hope to get the next chapter out soon. I have high hopes for this story.


	6. Classy (Scott)

Hey guys! So here's chapter 6, all ready to go. I struggled with this one, too (I feel like I say this every chapter), partially because of my writing slump but also because I felt like it didn't go anywhere. Thanks to DecemberRome, though, for encouraging me and pointing out that even if a chapter just explores and builds character, it can still be an important chapter. And! Big thanks to my reviewers:

Dead-Raccoons: I'm always glad to hear from you! I'll have to check out that comic. (P.S. you guys should check out her X-Men story, NeXt Genesis).

Arkham House: I'm so sorry to hear that. I'm a fan of Marvel but I can admit their shortcomings- they don't cater to all of their audiences. Hopefully they'll get better with that in time. And your description of Warren was spot on- I love what you said about him wondering when everyone is going to ask for a piece of him. I feel like that opens up his character in completely new ways.

icedmocha5: Thank you so much! I'm so glad you found this story and I hope you want to keep reading. I love the O5 X-Men too, who's your favorite? :)

And for those of you wondering how old they are in this story, I think I've come to the conclusion that Scott, Jean, and Warren are 15, Hank is 16, and Bobby is 14. I didn't want to write them too young or too old, and I feel like this is a happy medium for now. Thanks for coming (or coming back)! Enjoy!

Also I don't happen to own any of these characters. It's for the best. :)

* * *

You might assume that Scott would have slept better, considering that this was his first time being back in an actual bed in a month. As it was, he groaned as he rolled his aching body off of the queen-sized mattress, stretching as soon as his feet hit the floor and regretting going to bed only three hours prior to his alarm going off. He untied the blindfold he wore to sleep, and fumbled for his ruby glasses on the nightstand. He got dressed quickly- somehow, his closet had been filled with clothes that were all his size. It would have creeped him out, but it'd been a while since he'd had clothes this nice (and new, and _his_ ) and he wasn't going to complain about it.

He ran a brush over his teeth and a hand through his hair before walking down to breakfast.

Henry was the only one in the kitchen, but a full spread of food sat on the table. The chef had probably cooked for them again- Ms. Lafitte? Scott made a note to thank her for the feasts she kept providing.

"Good morning, Scott," Henry greeted, offering a cup of coffee to him. Scott gratefully accepted before settling at the kitchen's dining table, which was much smaller and more casual than the one in the formal dining room they'd been in for dinner the night before.

Had that really just been a few hours ago? It seemed like so much longer, with how late they'd all stayed up. Scott yawned just thinking about how little sleep he'd had.

"Anything interesting in the news?" Scott asked, noticing a TV on the wall. Henry was watching, reading the subtitles rather than listening. He seemed tired too- his shoulders sagged and his smile didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Ah, just the usual, I'm afraid. A celebrity couple eloped; it's going to be hot today." Henry sipped his own coffee and sat down as well.

Scott raised his eyebrows. "Can't complain about normal. It could be worse." He'd just began loading food onto his plate when they heard loud footsteps coming down the stairs. "Speak of the devil."

Henry barked a laugh.

Bobby and Warren entered, already arguing about something. Bobby bounced as he walked, seemingly sustaining the same amount of energy he'd had the day before. Warren, however, seemed fine only at first glance. Scott was quick to notice the dark circles under his eyes, looking as if he hadn't slept at all. He felt a small pang of worry, but pushed it aside. Warren could take care of himself.

"Are you kidding?" Bobby was saying. "I hate to break it to you, but Warren is definitely an old person name."

"It isn't that old," Warren argued defensively, but he didn't look so sure.

"I will let this go if you can name one other person who is named Warren. Morning Hank. Scott." Bobby hopped up to sit on the counter.

"Warren Paletto." Warren smirked, and waved his morning at the two other boys.

Bobby squinted, looking for all the world like he'd already won the argument. "Our age?"

"Warren Paletto is… okay, so the dude's a little old."

"Yeah, like a million years old. For one, he's a politician- I think- and they're all ancient. Two, his last name is even Paletto. Like, that's the guys that dig up dinosaur bones."

Warren paused, looking confused. Henry and Scott watched them like a tennis match, drinking their coffee. This was much better than the news.

"You mean… Paleo? Paleontologists?"

"I was close enough," Bobby insisted, jumping down. "The point still stands. You, friend, have a grandpa name." The younger boy joined the others at the table and shamelessly took large portions of everything.

Warren rolled his eyes, but sat down with them good-naturedly. "I guess it is a third generation name."

"You… you're a third?" Bobby laughed, but Scott didn't really see what was so funny, though the younger boy's humor was contagious, and he found himself smiling.

"Yeah, well at least I don't sleepwalk," Warren shot back, but a smile played at the corners of his mouth. He wasn't really angry.

Bobby's eyebrows scrunched together. "What's that supposed to-"

"Good morning, boys," Jean beamed as she walked in. No one had heard her on the stairs, being too caught up in Bobby and Warren's drama. She looked great, for it being so early in the morning, and Scott almost wished he'd spent some actual time trying to tame his hair.

Everyone greeted her back in some variety of "Morning, Jean."

"Did everyone sleep okay?" She asked, and sat on her own side of their little table.

Another chorus of affirmations, though Scott hadn't slept well, and it didn't look like Warren nor Henry had either. Bobby… even if Bobby hadn't slept well, he had a feeling that he'd still have the same amount of restless energy.

"Actually," Warren began, "I didn't sleep very well at all. But I'm awake and I'm here, which is what really matters." He grinned with his whole face.

Of course he would be a morning person.

"Good to see you're cheery, Warren." Jean sat and poured herself some juice. Scott glanced between them- he may have not known Jean for long, but he knew it was unlike her to avoid looking at the person she was talking to. Had something happened between them in the last four hours?

"I"m cheery," Bobby grumbled. The rest of them laughed. They created chit-chat for a few more minutes as they ate, discussing the news and joking about their escapade to the backyard the previous night.

"Good morning, students." The Professor wheeled in through the side door. "Are you almost finished eating?"

Scott wiped his mouth with a napkin as he looked at the empty plates on the table. "I think everyone's just about done." The others nodded their agreement.

"Good. Class will take place in the room adjacent to my study, I'll show you there for the first day." He turned and wheeled away, leaving the others to follow him.

They did. The Professor intimidated all of them, in one way or another- Scott could see it in the way they quieted whenever he was around. Even Bobby seemed more reserved when he appeared. Scott's intuition told him that they would come to care for the Professor at some point, though he didn't know when that would happen. But the fact of their small class coupled with the Professor's obvious desire for them to learn promised that they would make a great team- all six of them.

But for now, Scott hadn't been given ample reason to trust the older man. All he knew was that mutants that didn't seem to have a place in the world were put here together. And surprisingly, he was okay with that. The others would have to earn his trust, but he expected that he would have to earn theirs as well. He was willing to put in the work. Even for Warren.

In all honesty, the guy didn't seem that bad. Scott couldn't even explain the problem he had with him if he tried. Was he annoying and arrogant? Well, yes, but that didn't make him an inherently bad person. Scott would get used to him. He'd had similar issues with boys he'd met in orphanages and the like, and though all of those issues weren't resolved, he had a lot more in common with Warren than he had with those others- as hard as that was to admit.

The Professor's study was probably pretty big, but Scott couldn't tell since the door was mostly shut. The room next to it, however, was set up like… well, a classroom. A unique classroom. There were two long tables set in a wide 'V' so that the students would be facing both the Professor and each other. The tables were set with rolling chairs behind them, and notebooks and pencils in front of each chair. Across from them, a chalkboard took up a majority of the back wall.

Warren didn't even try to sit by Jean as Scott expected, but went straight for the window seat at the right. Jean sat at the opposite end, Henry in the middle, and Scott and Bobby filled in the gaps. Scott tried not to look at the pretty girl next to him, but in his avoidance ended up making eye contact with Bobby, who shot him a wink and a thumbs up. Scott rolled his eyes for not the first time that day. Bobby snickered.

The Professor moved to the front of the room and began teaching immediately. "Tell me what a mutant is."

Henry raised his hand.

The Professor nodded at him. "No need to raise your hand, Henry, this is a discussion based classroom."

Henry dropped his hand. "Mutants are the next stage of human evolution. The change takes place in the DNA, though more specifically, the X-Gene. This gene remains active only in mutants, however, and it's usually carried through the X Chromosome and usually passed down through the mother, though in specific cases…"

Scott tried his best to pay attention, but he really hadn't had enough sleep. He found himself lost in his thoughts as his gaze drifted to Jean's notebook. Her handwriting was curly and elegant for someone their age, and whenever there was a lull in information she would sketch in the margins. He wished he could tell what color her fingernails were.

She tilted her head up, and he accidentally caught her gaze. Her lips quirked. He looked down, a little embarrassed, resolving to keep his eyes on his own blank paper. He cursed himself for not smiling at her- that would have been so much more preferable to the surely awkward glance he gave.

Scott ran a hand through his still messy hair and picked up his pencil with every intention to start taking notes.

"-wondering when we were going to begin our training. And what it would consist of, specifically," Henry was saying.

"You're all incredibly gifted mutants, but I believe that with the proper focus we can finely hone your abilities further than you think. We'll have to begin with physical training and exercise, but eventually I hope to move on to specialized practices that fit each of your mutations as individuals." The Professor tapped a finger on the arm of his chair. "Although, I'm sure you'll have your own ideas, Hank, and I'm equally sure they'll be beneficial as we continue to grow together." He met Scott's eyes through the glasses. "I know I mentioned going up against other mutants, but with any luck, it will never come to that. However, I still hope to build a stable team here just in case a dangerous situation would arise."

An elbow brushed against Scott's arm. He turned to see a smiling Jean, who tapped her pencil against her paper to point at a sketch. It was very obviously a picture of the five of them, but they were decked out like superheroes, complete with capes and masks and external underwear. The top of the picture said X-GENE in block letters.

Scott snickered, and put his own pencil on the paper to draw a giant snowflake on sketch-Bobby's chest. Jean laughed, and he continued by drawing a halo over Warren's head, but then gave him a devil's tail and pitchfork.

Jean covered her mouth with a hand, glancing up at the Professor to make sure he wasn't looking at them. Scott noticed that everyone was struggling to pay attention to some extent- Warren had his head propped on his hand, looking out the window, Bobby's eyelids were drooping, Jean was showing him her drawings… Henry was really the only one invested in the conversation. Which was fitting for Henry, but Scott still felt bad.

Yes, it was Monday, but that didn't give him an excuse to _act_ like it was Monday. He would do better the next day. But until then…

"Class dismissed," the Professor announced. "I know it was short, but I don't mind starting out slow at the beginning of the year. I'll see you all at dinner. Hopefully you'll all be a tad more energized tomorrow." His chair hummed as he disappeared out the door. Scott was embarrassed by the last comment- he could honestly admit that he wanted the Professor's approval, and falling asleep on the first day of class wasn't the way to earn it.

"Look, I drew the Professor, too," Jean said, pushing her notebook to Scott. And she had- he was wearing a mask, too, and the wheels of his chair had giant X's as the spokes.

Scott laughed. "I love it."

"What are you guys laughing about over here?" Bobby asked, yawning.

Jean showed him the notebook page.

"Oh, we were talking about mutations today," Bobby joked, reading her notes. He looked over the drawing. "Nice snowflake. I'm gonna be honest, I was so tired I was having a little bit of trouble paying attention."

"You dozed the entire class period." Warren grinned.

"I was listening!"

"What do you think he means by 'honing our abilities?'" Scott asked about the one part of the class period he had heard.

"Probably exactly what he says," Henry supplied. "I think he's actually going to train us to use our abilities like weapons. I, for one, am excited to see what that entails."

"He says he hopes it doesn't come to fighting, but I'm really excited to see what we can do, too," Jean added. "I haven't seen trained mutants before. Heck, I haven't seen more than six mutants in one room together before."

"Hank, how'd you learn so much about mutants anyway?" Bobby had stuck his forefinger to his thumb with a layer of ice, his forehead scrunched in concentration. He pulled his fingers apart, and stuck them back together, and pulled them apart, a mindless activity done with immense focus. Scott was reminded of a child playing with glue for the first time.

"Reading, mostly. Even though mutants aren't a subject often explored by the general population- yet- there are still scientific documents out there if you dig deep enough. Lots of independent studies, but there are a couple of larger, more well-known developers that have done research on the topic." Hank watched Bobby's fidgeting with mild interest.

"Really?" Jean asked. She leaned forward from her perch on a desk, intrigued. "Larger developers like who?"

"Pym Enterprises has some research, as do Advanced Idea Mechanics, and-"

"Worthington Industries." Warren looked sullen, and… guilty? Maybe not guilty, but definitely as though he felt bad for something.

"Do you read this stuff too, Third?" Bobby looked up from the snowflakes he was twirling around his fingers.

"Nah. My dad owns the company." Warren looked at his feet for a moment. "They do a lot of mutant research there. All I know, though." He held his hands up, grinning. He was probably trying to keep from being bombarded with their curiosity.

"I'd like to look at some of these articles, Hank." Jean swung her feet. She still hadn't looked at Warren… in fact, Scott was sure she was purposefully avoiding it. He didn't know why, but he did know something was going on.

"Of course- I actually brought some as hard copies with me, if you'd like to come with me to find the lab today."

"Perfect."

"Well, you guys have fun with that, but I'm gonna go and find the kitchen again. It's time for second breakfast." Bobby pushed his chair in and started towards the door, walking backwards. "You two coming?"

Scott shrugged, looking at Warren. Warren sighed. "He would eat like a hobbit. I mean, he's about as tall as one."

"I heard that," Bobby said indignantly.

"You were supposed to."

Scott smiled. "Well, I'm not gonna come if you guys are just gonna argue the whole time." But his feet were already moving toward the door. He waved bye at Jean and Henry.

"We'll be perfect little angels. But just for you, Shades."

"I'll believe it when I see it."

* * *

Thank you guys for reading! Please please please leave me a review, good or bad, because I would love some feedback. And go check out the X-Men stories by Dead-Raccoons and Arkham house- they write good stuff! And come back next time for Jean wrestling with her telepathy! She's gonna have to talk it out with someone from the team, and figure out who she trusts with that.

Bye!

-M


	7. Shall We Play a Game? (Jean)

**I know, and I'm sorry.**

 **I can't really expect anyone to still be with this story, but for those who are (or for those who find it), please enjoy, and please comment on your favorite/least favorite parts. It really does make my day.**

 **Writing these stories is a hobby for me and I have trouble sticking with one hobby for an extended period of time. I'll probably be in and out on posting here (if you couldn't tell :/), but I really appreciate every single person that takes the time to read. Thank you guys so much! It wouldn't be as fun without you.**

 **And without further ado...**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own the X-Men and at this point I'm not super sure who does.**

* * *

 **Jean**

Three days, and no one had slept well.

Scott, well, he thought his bed was too soft. It was too different from the park benches and hard sidewalks that he'd been inhabiting for the last month, but he would adapt quickly. As for Hank- he had insomnia, and from what she could tell, pretty much always had. It didn't bug him though. He'd catch short naps in the afternoons and late at night, always seeming to steamroll through his days with his easygoing attitude and friendly composure. Bobby… actually, Bobby slept fine. Except the sleepwalking, which she knew Warren and Hank had seen firsthand. As for Jean…

Class was fine. The rooms and the meals were amazing. The lab that was set up behind the library in Hank's room was good, but would be even better with the designs he'd been working on. Even the time the five had spent just getting to know each other and hang out was really, really great. She liked these guys, and each of them seemed to like her too (some more than others, inexplicably). Truth be told, she was really excited to be going to school here for the next few years, and to get to know these people, and to hear their stories from their mouths rather than from accidentally reading their minds.

She'd never been able to control it, though, and she knew that. It was probably why she was still having the nightmares.

It had started a couple months after the onset of her telekinesis. So not only did she have objects randomly floating around her, but she was also seeing things every night. Things being other people's memories. And usually, it was their worst memories.

She'd be lying if she didn't admit it was part of the reason her parents sent her here- because every time she went to sleep, her consciousness would seek out the closest person and pick their brain. For the first three years, it'd been her parents. For the last three nights, it'd been Warren. His room was closest.

Night after night she met his hellish parents and seen every time he'd been picked on for his mutation. Every night she'd been used for her money, felt the fear as she flew for the first time, felt the aching in her wings from wearing the harness every day. Felt the longing to fly, fly away and never come back.

Every morning she'd wake with the weight of his wings on her shoulders, and it only got heavier when she saw him at breakfast. Bags under his eyes, his wings dragging on the floor. Because while she dreamed it, he relived it. And so he hadn't been sleeping well either. Which made her more anxious, which made the dreams worse…

So far, it was like summer camp. New friends, late nights, early mornings, but nobody paid much mind to the consequences. Yet.

She woke up determined on Thursday, after the fourth night of nightmares. It was the first day that they would actually begin training with their powers, and she couldn't be more ready. She had a plan now, after all: if she wore herself out by training hard, then her mind would be too exhausted to have nightmares. She would sleep through the night, and so would Warren. She would only have to do this… every day. But if that's what it took, that's what she'd do.

Jean smoothed her hair into a braid and dressed for class, her stomach fluttering the entire time with the anticipation of training for real. She marched downstairs and gave her usual greeting of "good morning, boys." And then: "Did everyone sleep okay?"

They lied every morning, of course (the exception being Bobby, who actually slept fine). This particular morning, however, there was a particular buzz in the air despite their usual exhaustion.

The training session was on everyone's mind- the Professor had been rather vague about the details, stating only that they would start out easy, as they had with their classes.

Which they had breezed through- aside from the first day, class had been around an hour and a half long each period. Every day they'd moved to something different, but even the simple subjects like math and English the Professor had managed to relate back to mutations and humankind.

It was fascinating.

Today was no different- a lesson in chemistry, where the Professor first talked about hydrogen bonding, and then the chemical makeup of different substances in the brain and in the genome.

And then they had an hour to get ready. The five of them spent the first half hour talking and eating (again- Bobby's habit of a second breakfast had been instilled in them all), but then went to get changed. They met in the gym.

Jean tangled and untangled her hands from the hem of her tank top. She was excited, she was nervous, she was set on wearing herself out. She was also the first person in the gym.

The place didn't seem like anything special at first, but it did seem to have something for everyone, to an extent: there was a big tape square in one corner, with the floor covered in mats. There was a row of punching bags on one wall, a pull-up bar, a running track on the second level (though that's probably all that was up there), and a weights set. There were a few bulls-eyes of different sizes painted on the back wall, most likely for Scott. Some hoops hung at different heights from the high ceiling, probably for Warren. An obstacle course took up the right wall, which was probably for all of them, but Hank would find it the easiest. The left side was a huge rock wall.

The hallway was fancy, but the big room still had a long way to go to really push them as far as their powers went.

"You know, for someone who's last to breakfast every day, you sure are early getting here." Scott strode in, that almost-confident smile plastered on his face.

She could sense his nervousness now, though- partially for the first training session, as he was almost as excited as she was. The other part was because they were the only two there.

Jean smirked. "I have my priorities."

"And exercise is a priority over food?" He sat cross legged on the floor a couple feet away from her.

"Well, we can't all be Bobby."

"Thank goodness for that." His eyes shone with laughter behind those red sunglasses.

"And besides," Jean started. "Someone's gonna have to work hard enough to carry the rest of you."

"Oh, is that right?" Scott grinned.

"We both know that's how it's gonna go-"

"The party is here, friends." Bobby sauntered through the doors, only to immediately trip over the weights rack. "I'm okay, it's okay."

Scott turned to face Jean again. "You're right. Someone's gonna have to carry this team."

Jean laughed. "I guess I can let you help."

He rolled his eyes. " _Let_ me?"

Hank entered then, writing something in his notepad. He didn't watch where he was going and tripped over the same weights rack Bobby did, but recovered much more gracefully. Jean fell backwards, laughing, and Scott wiped fake tears of laughter from his eyes.

A voice came over the loudspeaker- the Professor. Jean straightened up.

"Students, welcome to the gym." Now that she sought it out, there was a lighted window on the second story. The Professor waved at her from that little office, gracing them with a slight smile..

"Wait, where's Warren?" Bobby asked, looking around.

"Late?" Scott suggested. _Not that I'm surprised_.

Jean shook her head. She'd done it again.

"Today," the Professor announced, "You'll be warding off one of your own. If he tags you with a tennis ball, you're out and we reset. But if you tag him, the team wins."

"Payback time, Losers." Warren leaned from the second-story track, one hand wrapped around the railing, the other holding two tennis balls.

"Whenever you're ready, Warren." The loudspeaker clicked off with a slight buzz..

"I found him," Bobby said. He started backing toward the obstacle course. Hank was already on top of one of the platforms.

Warren let himself fall from the railing, and didn't spread his wings until he was less than ten feet from the ground. He flew straight for the group. In only three days of practice (they had spent most afternoons outside, chatting while Warren flew around and landed in trees and tried to do flips) he had improved exponentially. Jean froze, unsure of what to do first. She had ideas…

Jean felt a hand on her arm. "Can you stop him?" She turned to see Scott, who'd stayed right by her though the others had started running.

"What do you mean?"

"With your telekinesis. Like you pushed Bobby. Could you put up a wall or something so he can't get to us?"

"I'm coming for you, Summers!" Warren pulled up about fifteen feet away from them, snatching one of the gymnastic hoops for balance as he took aim with one of the tennis balls.

Jean threw her hands up in front of her- even though it felt ridiculous- and tried to imagine stopping the ball before it could hit anyone. She watched him throw it in slow motion- and then watched it stop, only inches from Scott's face.

"You did it, Jean! That's so coo-" he cut off with a short breath as the next ball hit him in the chest. "Really?"

Jean heard Warren's almost-cackle laugh and snatched the first tennis ball from where it hung in the air before she took off running. It was too late to save Scott, so she made straight for the obstacle course. Reaching out with her mind, she found Bobby had run for the other end of the gym, and Hank was up in the rafters. Warren was circling the gym, coming back around behind her. The telekinesis would put her at an advantage, as long as she could concentrate.

She came to a series of increasingly tall walls, and ducked behind the furthest one. She rolled the ball between her hands. She'd never been very athletic, though she had played volleyball until coming here. But if all she had to do was tag Warren with a tennis ball… she was sure she could manage.

Jean felt Warren set down on the first and tallest of the walls. "Ohh, Jeannieee. I know you're back therrree," he sang.

She heard his shoes as he jumped to the next wall. "I'm coming, might as well show yourself now."

 _Hank, can you hold him back? I've got one of the tennis balls._

There was a moment of silence, but he responded quickly.

 _Bobby and I are on our way._

Warren's feet hit the third wall. One more and he'd be on top of her. "I guess we'll have to do this the hard wayyAAH THAT'S COLD!"

Jean ran to one side, letting Warren fall into the space she'd occupied, pushed by Hank and coated in frost by Bobby. She turned and threw the ball as hard as she could, fully expecting it to hit the blond man.

He yelled and twisted last minute, the ball hitting the floor and bouncing over him. He caught it out of the air and threw it immediately at Bobby. He dodged, losing his balance on the wall. Hank caught the back of his shirt, which was the only thing that kept Bobby from hitting the ground.

Jean managed to stop the second ball soon after it left Warren's hand.

"Throw me!" Bobby yelled up at Hank.

"What?"

Jean tuned them out, instead focusing on the tennis ball that was still in her grasp. She made a fist, and it almost felt like she was actually holding it by some extension of her arm.

Warren jumped and kicked off the side of a wall to take off, trying to put distance between them, but it was too late. Jean threw- or rather pushed- the ball at him, and it hit him square between the wings.

"Yes, Jean!" Scott cheered her from the side. "Good job!" He didn't look bitter at having been tagged out first, but she could sense something behind those ruby glasses. She wasn't close enough for his actual thoughts, but it was definitely cognitive, and maybe borderline scheming.

"You should have thrown me, dude." Bobby pouted. Hank had since pulled him back onto the wall and they were having their own little argument.

Hank laughed, and Jean thought it was maybe one of the first real laughs she'd heard since meeting him.

"I'm serious."

"Terrible plan. Wouldn't have worked." Warren landed next to them.

The loudspeaker clicked on. "Good game, students if not a little disappointing. Scott, you need to learn to depend on your own resources rather than looking to Jean. Jean, if there were ever a situation in which you were prohibited from using your telekinesis, you would have been in trouble. Warren, you've become a good flier, but wasted time on taunting. You could have easily taken Bobby and Hank while everyone was separated. And you two were working defensively. I'd like to see some more initiative from everyone. This said, it wasn't bad for a first match."

Everyone sank just a little- they had been out here mostly having fun. It was built like a game and they had treated it as such. Jean was even a little frustrated- he didn't have to put them all down like that when it was the first day and they hadn't known any better. She calmed quickly. They were all here to learn, whatever that meant now. And if that meant being dangerous, she supposed she could learn to be.

* * *

 **And there we have it. Chapter 7. I'm a little disconnected from these characters after so long, but I also believe they'll always have a place with me. I love you guys for reading and hope you forgive my absences.**


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